


Make me lose my breath

by Cartonsofcartoons



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Breathplay, I don't know why tagging this is making me blush more than writing it did, Light BDSM, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Restraints, Smut, kind of?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-01
Updated: 2017-02-01
Packaged: 2018-09-21 08:54:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9540560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cartonsofcartoons/pseuds/Cartonsofcartoons
Summary: This is a treat, a reward, but for the life of him, Viktor cannot remember what he’s being rewarded for.





	

 

 

Yuuri is on his knees, in black skintight leggings, a velvet choker around his neck. His glasses are off, his hair, so much longer now than when they’d met, hangs soft and wavy, casting shadows upon that face Viktor loves so much.

 

He’s barely moving but the slow grind he does on the ground is breathtaking. Yuuri’s knees are still on the ground, his hands tucked behind him contained by the shirt he’s wearing, unbuttoned and half off his shoulders, twisted at the wrists. With every twist of his hips Viktor can see the arch in his spine as Yuuri leans back, tongue darting to wet his lips, gaze heavy and intent and Viktor moves closer as if pulled by a string.

 

He cups Yuuri’s face, thumb catching on his lower lip and Yuuri’s tongue dashes out to catch it. His fingers caress his jaw while his thumb begins a pattern, dipping in and out, simulating what will e happening soon enough. It doesn’t take long for Yuuri mouth to become plush, red and swollen. Viktor leans down to kiss him and when Yuuri’s hips rise too high he pulls away, hand tangling in the dark hair, pulling at it.

 

“Sit.” He commands and with the softest of whines, Yuuri acquiesces.

 

They don’t use cuffs, or proper collars or any restraints. Yuuri bruises like a peach and they have too many eyes on them to try and explain the odd marks that might show up. So, they use this, simple self-restraint. No toys, no accessories. Just a command and the will to follow it.

 

It’s exhilarating.

 

They save this for special occasions, usually Yuuri is sexy to Viktor in his sweats in the courtyard of Yu-Topia, and sexy when wearing nothing but a pair of boxers, an ugly tie and socks, clinging to a pole, he is beautiful when he laughs, when he looks longingly at a bowl of katsudon.

 

This is a _treat_ , a reward, but for the life of him, Viktor cannot remember what he’s being rewarded for.

 

He backs away sitting down on the bed and crooks a finger. Yuuri could sit like that for ages in that perversion of a seiza but Viktor loves to see him move. He gets onto his hands and knees, and crawls slow and languorous, the hitching of his shoulders reminding Viktor of a tiger he had seen once, and his pulse races. He may be one issuing commands but they both knew who the predator was.

 

“On the bed.” Viktor catches the barest flash of teeth as Yuuri jumps onto the downy mattress, resumes his kneeling position, eyes fixed on Viktor. His pupils are blown out, his breath fast the way it doesn’t get even after ten run-throughs of his routine and Viktor slides his hand from his knee up to his belly.

 

He pushes just a little and Yuuri gives in, falling back onto the bed, legs still bent at the knee in a way that should be painful. Viktor tugs on one shin, slowly stretching it. His fingers dig in to the knots he feels barely there Yuuri sinks into the touch. The other leg gets the same consideration and Viktor leans back on his haunches to take a long look at the sight in front of him.

 

Yuuri’s legs splayed out, hands fisting at the side of his hips, the black of the leggings, a cutting contrast against his pale skin.

 

Viktor could never tire of this sight.

 

He moves to capture Yuuri’s mouth in a kiss, warm and urgent. His hand caresses his cheek for a brief moment before sliding down, spanning the expanse of his throat and Yuuri makes a sound that goes straight to Viktor’s cock. Yuuri’s pulse is strong and fast under his hand and he presses just a little, not enough to bruise but enough to make Yuuri swallow hard and Viktor smiles, his face flushing with pleasure as he feels the movement of Yuuri’s Adam’s apple against his palm.

 

Viktor rocks himself against the hollow where Yuuri’s torso narrows into his hips, feeling the answering hardness grow under the leggings. He’s naked where Yuuri is still clothed, albeit skimpily, and the brush of their bare bellies is enough to make him groan.

 

He pulls the leggings down, mouth following its motions, biting and sucking at every inch of newly bared flesh. The elastic pulls tight under Yuuri’s bare balls, shaved completely , his cock curving up away from them.  Viktor’s fingers fit around it loosely, index finger stroking lazily at the slit alternating with the drag of his thumb against the vein running under it.

 

“You have the prettiest cock,” He cannot help but say and the prettiest cock in the world twitches under his hand. His hand tightens around it and tugs, feeling the answering groan under his other hand, still at Yuuri’s throat and he tuts. “Be polite now darling, that’s not how you react to compliments.”

 

“T-Thank you,” Yuuri says, voice rough and low and raw like it usually only got when he’d choked himself on Viktor’s cock and he shivers.

 

He squeezes and pulls at it some more, drawing such lovely sounds from his Yuuri but his patience can only go so far, especially when he has such plans for them.  Yuuri surprises him so often he cannot help but want to return the favour.

 

He pulls away from Yuuri’s body for a second to slick up his hands and when he returns Yuuri lifts his hips in expectation.

 

Only to choke on a moan as Viktor wraps his hand around Yuuri’s cock again instead of stretching his ass the way he usually would.  His other hand reaches to his own rim, scissoring his fingers to make sure he’s still as loose as he’d made himself in the shower before. He walks forward on his knees rising to fit and aim Yuuri’s cock correctly, moaning as the head pops past the ring of muscle and just as Yuuri’s regained his breath, he slams down hard on his cock.

 

Viktor hiccups at the feeling, so full, so warm. His hips move in circles, steady and slow until he finds the perfect angle for Yuuri’s cock to hit his prostrate. A choked moan leaves him as his body shudders at the rush of pleasure and Yuuri’s hands leave the sheets to clutch at Viktor’s hips and he thrust up, and Viktor cannot have that.

 

He stops, pulling Yuuri’s hands away and his hand slaps at the side of Yuuri’s hip, by now he knows just how to cup his hand so that it leaves a barely there sting that will fade soon but make that loud crack of sound that makes Yuuri take a hissing, shuddering breath.

 

Viktor wags a shaky finger at him. “I didn’t say you could move.”

 

Yuuri swallows but listens and his hips fall back to the bed. Viktor lifts off until only the tip is in him before letting his weight pull him down until their hips are flush against one another again. It doesn’t last long after that, Viktor is too stimulated, too turned on by the novelty of it and he comes with a groan, splattering all over Yuuri’s belly and chest on a downward thrust. He swirls his finger in the mess he’s made and brings it up to Yuuri’s mouth. Yuuri’s cheeks hollow around the finger, mouth wet and hot around it and Viktor continues to bounce on his cock. He may have come once but it’s not enough, he needs to be closer to Yuuri, wants to feel every glancing thrust like a blow to his prostrate, oversensitive but unsatisfied, wants _more_.  Yuuri digs his fingers into the bed sheet to keep from touching Viktor, he’s such a good student, such a good boy, and the thought is all it takes. One last, hard grind and Yuuri comes, hot and splashing against Viktor’s insides and Viktor tumbles after him.

 

“C-can I touch you now?” Yuuri asks and Viktor drudges up the last of his strength to pull Yuuri’s arms around him and settle against his collarbone, loose and sated.

 

“Yes, _yes_ ,” Yuuri’s hands run down his back, squeezing the back of his neck and he feels something loosen inside of him.

 

“You don’t usually bottom,” The younger man fusses, reaching for his glasses on the bedside table. He puts them on and looks over Viktor for any signs of hurt and Viktor is blown away by the sight in front of him. Yuuri, thoroughly debauched in body, adorable, and worried in face.

 

“Next time—“He has to stop to catch his breath and Yuuri runs his fingers through his hair, petting softly, lifting a glass of water to his mouth.

 

“Next time?”

 

“Next time, keep your glasses on.”

 

 


End file.
